The Stony Reckoning
by Sapphire1112
Summary: A different take on the 'cave rescue' episode. I don not own the characters.
1. Chapter 1

**Dylan**

I watch Sam in amusement from across the room. My wife has a unique way of dealing with things (no doubt she'd say the same about me), and often I can't wait to see what she does next.

Zoe appears to be struggling to put back a dislocated joint, and Sam is hanging back – so far resisting the urge to step in. The working relationship between the two of them is somewhat strained of late – due to Zoe being called to give evidence against Sam at her up-coming GMC 'fitness to practise' hearing. It was a fact I was very annoyed about when I found out – not that I _intended_ showing it. Zoe claims that she is not 'choosing' to give evidence against Sam – that she has no choice.

Anyway, I think I managed to convince Zoe that I'm just aggrieved on a _professional_ level – that I don't agree with her giving evidence against a colleague on principal. The truth is, there's more to it then that. Despite our estrangement, Sam is still my wife and I care about her deeply, though it's not a fact I wish to be well known.

She's also a bloody good doctor and she doesn't deserve to have her career thrown away over this. Keith Parr is not a pleasant man – indeed, he was in the process of assaulting me when Sam restrained him. I have to admit, though, I was quite taken aback by the way she came over the second he started to approach me in an aggressive manner – like she was my bodyguard. Nevertheless, she restrained him to protect me, - and surely that has to count for something?

Anyway, _unusually_ , Sam is hanging back from the dislocation. Maybe she doesn't want to risk undermining Zoe when the GMC are hanging over her, however, she may have to because Zoe isn't getting anywhere. I move a bit closer with my paperwork, so that I can hear if things get a bit heated and I need to step in. I know how feisty my wife can be. She doesn't suffer fools gladly – and the current circumstances will only add fuel to the fire. It's not a good idea to get on her bad side.

"No. The muscles are spasming on us." Zoe announces when she can't manipulate the joint – giving Sam the opening she's waiting for.

"Do you...um...want me to have a go?" She asks, phrasing the question carefully.

"Yeah, why not." Zoe agrees. She doesn't seem anywhere near as bothered about the GMC as Sam – but then it's not _Zoe's_ competence that's being questioned.

This is where it gets interesting. Rather than trying a simple manipulation with her hands, Sam takes her shoe off. I know exactly what she's doing, and I can't help but smile to myself at Zoe's bemused face.

"I take it you've advised 'Mr Torquemada of the GMC' of how much you trust my judgement?" Sam comments coldly as she positions her foot.

"How about we focus on the job in hand?" Zoe responds, deflecting the question.

"That sounded very _evasive_." Sam retorts. "Ready?"

"Yeah." Zoe agrees, and Sam manipulates the joint, pushing with her foot and pulling with her hands. The shoulder crunches back into position. "Ok, deep breath, deep breath." Zoe tells the patient. "Wayne – sling." She adds to one of the nurses present in the room.

At this point, I decide that I had better go over – because there's no way that Sam is going to take this conversation lying down – she's not just going to let it go. Sam started the conversation and she means to finish it. She's _angry_ – and when Sam is angry, it comes out as 'fast-cooling magma' instead of hot flames – which is rather more dangerous. If I'm there, she's more likely to keep her temper. I can keep her thinking straight.

"Course, I trust you, Sam." Zoe informs her – obviously sensing that the conversation is by no means over.

"So what exactly did you tell the GMC?" Sam snaps back icily, putting her shoe back on.

Her anger is understandable. Zoe is supposed to be a colleague - and a friend. At least they were friends before this.

"I'm not allowed to say." Zoe answers firmly – which does nothing to calm Sam's rage.

I have trouble taking my eyes off my wife at this point – Sam is, after all, undeniably beautiful when she's angry. I've always found it a breath-taking sight.

"I always knew I could count on you for your support." She fumes – though still with the frosty edge. I've always marvel at how she can do both at once – like 'hot ice' if such a thing existed. "Do you need me any more?" She adds coolly – almost _daring_ Zoe to detain her further.

"No." Zoe dismisses her quickly and is noticeably relieved when Sam breezes past me and out the room. The atmospheric temperature certainly goes up after her departure. As she passes me, Sam's hand brushes mine – I don't know whether it was intentional or not, but it sends shivers up my spine. Her hands are cold and mine are warm, however, I don't have time to openly react as Zoe asks me a question.

"Torquemada? Who is he?" Zoe enquires to my surprise.

" _Tomas de Torquemada – the_ _G_ _rand_ _I_ _nquisitor of the Spanish_ _Inquisition._ " I explain, baffled by her lack of knowledge. "You really don't know?" She's so lucky Sam didn't hear her ask me – I can imagination my wife's triumphant reaction if she discovered that her current arch-enemy didn't know such a thing. "Those who don't know history, are condemned to repeat it." I add as I go to leave the room – deciding that it's safe to do so now that it's a Sam-free zone.

"Those who know too much history are condemned to never having friends." Zoe replies without hesitation.

I suppose I can't argue with that – I don't really do friends.

I watch Sam from across the room for the rest of the morning, but we don't have any reason to interact. After lunch, I'm standing observing a patient, when the phone rings. I head to answer it, but at the last minute, my wife sweeps in from the other side of the reception desk and picks it up as my hand is about to close on it. She loves doing such things.

"Holby City ED?" She comments, triumphant at her victory.

Despite knowing that she 'beat me to the punch' purely to create the friction between us that she thrives on, I can't help but feel endeared to her attempts to rile me. It's always been the way of our marriage and I can't help but feel the affections for my wife being _reignited_ – despite my efforts to the contrary.

 **Sam**

"Right, ok." I say down the phone – aware that Dylan's eyes are now gazing at me intensely. I take a pen out of my hair to note down the details. "How many casualties? Right. I'll be there."

I try not to look up at Dylan as I put the phone down. I fear that I know _exactly_ the way he's looking at me - and to make eye contact at this point would be a mistake. However, as I go to leave, Dylan does the same as he always does, when I'm refusing to make eye contact. I'm not even sure he's aware that he does it.

"Something exciting?" He remarks dryly – causing me to automatically turn and catch his eyes, feeling heat rising in my cheeks as I do so. His eyes are captivating.

I fan my face with the note I've written, and turn quickly to head out the door before my husband sees me blushing. I don't want him to know he still has that affect on me.

I didn't know he did until now.

 **Dylan**

That caught me unawares, for I'm pretty sure that she was blushing. I only hesitate for a second though, before hurrying into the corridor after her - because I don't want to miss my chance. I'm not very good at noticing these things, so the 'chances' don't come along very often.

"Sam, wait a minute." I gently grab her hand, pulling her back so she's leaning against the wall next to me – then I stand in front of her. She moves her hand away from mine far too quickly for it too be an 'indifferent' reaction and she's noticeably awkward – itching to get away from this situation, but she's not going to leave until she's told me what I want to know.

Again Sam avoids my eyes. "Dylan, I've got a call out – I've got to go." She mutters uncomfortably – her face still showing signs of being flushed.

"It won't take long." I insist, determined to get an answer to my burning question.

She sighs impatiently and folds her arms, waiting – but still not looking at me.

"Do you really _hate_ me that much?"

" _What?_ " She does look at me then – her eyes snap up in shock at my question, but she quickly diverts her gaze back to the floor. "I could _never_ hate you – why would you think that?"

I take a deep breath and continue in my usual gruff voice. "Since you started working here, you've never looked me in the eyes for more than two seconds." I point out. "I want to know why."

It takes her a while to answer. "You're a clever man, Dylan." She eventually mumbles. "I'm sure you can work it out." And then she's gone before I can stop her.

What is happening here?


	2. Chapter 2

**Sam**

It's a great relief to get to the location. I hate that I ran away from Dylan, but my almost dormant affections for my husband were bubbling away under the surface – slumbering no longer. It took me by surprise. I'm not saying that I didn't feel anything before – I did, but I'd got used to ignoring it. I shut down – just like he shut down. During our separation, I told myself that we got married on a whim. It's not true at all. We had a proper church wedding with months of planning and we were very much in love – but you can make yourself believe anything if your hurting. Especially when it's your fault.

Time and distance are good remedies. I told myself that I didn't care – and again, I believed it. Then I stupidly came back.

W _hy did I do that?_

And now, even more stupidly, we're letting each other back in. No doubt my _biggest_ mistake was defending Dylan from Keith Parr – in more ways than one, because now my job is on the line too. Then again, I can't say with any confidence that it was a mistake – even if it leads to me losing the job I live for. It was my instinct to protect my husband and I don't regret it one bit. Too many times in the past, I've put myself or my job before Dylan – and I _do_ regret that, so no matter what happens with the GMC, I saved Dylan from getting hurt and I'll take whatever punishment comes my way.

When I get to the location of the casualties, Dixie and Jeff are locked in a disagreement with an official at the site – along with another less senior fire-fighter. The cave rescue team have been called, but aren't able to attend for a while – and as our very own are stating, by the time they arrive, we could be retrieving bodies – not rescuing people. However, the opposing side are arguing that Dixie and Jeff – and the fire-fighter, aren't trained to do such things as this- and they therefore will not – under any circumstances, be allowed to undertake this rescue.

 _Good thing I'm here then._

"You ever pulled out a casualty?" The senior fire-fighter retorts at Jeff.

"No." He answers. "So what do I do? Go home? Have a cup of tea? Put my feet up – make a sandwich? Wait for cave rescue to call?...Cos we're not actually _achieving_ anything stood here – are we?" He adds to the other man – who looks less than amused by Jeff's sarcasm.

"I was trained in line rescue in the army." I announce appearing next to Jeff. _Nobody_ is going to stop me from seeing to my patients.

"Have you ever rescued anyone?" The head fire-fighter/Mr 'stick -to-the rules-no-matter-what-the-cost' questions me.

"Yes. I'll assess and stabilise them and we'll wait for cave rescue to get here. " I tell him. "When they do, we'll give you a rescue that'll have your health and safety forms crackling."

He gives an exasperated sigh. "All right. You can go down."

"Yeah." Jeff agrees. "I'll go with her."

"Me too." The younger fire-fighter adds, determined to help.

"She goes down alone – end of." The head fire-fighter insists.

"Yes." I agree. It's the only way these patients are going to get any help.

"Say 'Yes'. Jeffrey." Dixie instructs him - but he merely pulls a face.

As I'm harnessed up and start abseiling down into the deep dark, the reality of what I'm doing suddenly hits me like cold water. I hate the dark and I wish Dylan was here. I barely hear Jeff's instructions.

" _Sam?_ " He repeats.

As I lower myself down, I hear the radio. "Please be advised. Cave rescue on it's way. ETA two hours. Repeat. Two hours. Over."

Two hours.

I catch the wall of the cave on my way down. "Urgh!"

"Sam, are you ok?" Jeff asks over the radio.

"Yeah, fine. Fine." I'm fine. I'm just lowering myself into a dark cave. And I _hate_ the dark.

As I treat my patients – Amanda and David, I learn that they don't really know each other – though they want to. They appear to have been waiting for the 'right' moment to introduce themselves and they use this 'disaster' to do so. Amanda is in a far worse state than David and at one point he reaches out and holds her hand to comfort her.

Dylan and I were never good at the emotional stuff – though he did used to hold my hand sometimes when it was dark – mostly to stop me being scared. I wish he was holding my hand now.

There's a sudden rumbling sound and a huge rock fall. David and I run for cover – as much as we can in the confines if the cave and just as I dive out of the way, a large rock lands precisely on the spot where I was sitting a mere second ago. David isn't so lucky.

"David!" I shout. "Amanda – are you ok?" Silly question, Sam. She wasn't ok _before_ the rock-fall.

"Sam?" Jeff's urgent voice comes over the radio. "Are you receiving?"

"Jeff?" I answer.

"Sam, are you ok?"

"Jeff, it's Sam, over."

"What's going on down there?"

"I'm fine." I tell him. "but we're going to need another doctor down here immediately. A rock has landed on top of the male casualty."

"The fire brigade won't let anyone else down without experience in line rescue." He reminds me.

" _They'll have to_!"

"Want me to try another hospital?" He suggests.

"No. It's too far." I answer with frustration. Amanda is in a bad way and now David is under a rock – also in a bad way. And he's blocking any access I had to treat Amanda. I need help now. Personal feelings aside. "I know another doctor in Holby who can abseil."

A brilliant doctor. I need Dylan.

 **Dylan**

"Why do I need to _abseil?_ " I ask Zoe incredulously.

"Because she's down a cave with two casualties..." She explains. "She seems to think you've abseiled before..." Zoe adds in apparent amazement.

"Yeah, what's so outrageous about that?" I ask. Hold on - this _is_ my wife we're talking about? "Sam is stuck down a cave – a big _dark_ place?" I clarify.

"Usually, yes." Zoe agrees.

"She's terrified of the dark." I retort, unable to see why Sam would have accepted this rescue. "She can't even sleep with the light off. Played merry havoc with my body clock – never mind the electricity bill!"

"Well, you'd better get a move on then, hadn't you!" Zoe responds. " _Merry havoc?_ " she adds in amusement – as if she's never heard that phrase before.

"Dr Nicholls also requested an air bag." The head fire-fighter informs me as I'm harnessed up with the gear I need to take down.

"Right." I agree.

"That's why we're sending you down." Jeff adds with a smirk. No doubt his idea of a joke.

"You all set?"

"Yep. I'm ok." I answer the fire-fighter. As I start going down, I hear them discussing another possible exit to the cave. Good – maybe we'll get out of this sooner than we thought. "Sam?" I call out as I near the bottom.

"Yes?" She answers. Well she _sounds_ ok. "I've got two casualties. One female stuck under a rock shelf. The male's above blocking access to her." She turns to the male patient. "David, I'm going to give you some morphine. It's going to be ok."

"You ok?" I ask Sam anxiously.

"Yeah, the rock just missed me." She answers. That's not what I was talking about though. This could be awkward because we both try to steer clear of any emotion, but I need to know.

I take a deep breath. "I meant before the rock." I see her tense up – as I predicted this is awkward.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" She answers brazenly.

"You were always a _little_ scared of the dark." I remind her, trying to keep my voice in a light tone – and failing _completely_ on that point.

Of course, Sam will never admit she's scared – not here, and not when there are other people here. For the moment, she decides not to answer – instead introducing me to the other patient as I move closer to them. "This is Amanda. Access is tight. You know - " she adds, having obviously thought of a 'snappy' comment to my statement. "I was never scared of being in the dark - I was only scared of being in the dark _with you_!" She counters.

"You might have told them I'd only abseiled twice – for charity." I retort feeling hurt by her comment even though I know she said it to 'remove' the emotion I'd put into the atmosphere.

"Oh, so getting me into bed was _charity_?" She snaps back.

"Are you two...are you a couple?" Amanda asks.

We both answer far too quickly – each stinging the other with our answer.

"Uh, no."

"No."

"Amanda's resps?" I ask Sam.

"90/20" She informs me from her latest check.

"It's a little higher than that – I'd say 30 now." I update.

"Well, it's David I'm more concerned about now."

"Yeah, this rock's really planted across his abdomen." I agree. "Hello, David – I'm Dylan." We try to move the rock between us, but it won't move – and from what we can see the injury underneath looks bad. "This is not good, Sam." I inform my wife – who for once seems to agree with me.

"Morphine should be kicking in now." I comment. "Are you ok, David?" We're unable to do much else at this point – other than trying to keep them both stable while we wait for cave rescue. Still, maybe it's an opportunity while neither of us can storm out – and we have an audience which will stop any shouting. "Of course I didn't learn to abseil just to get you into bed." I tell Sam quietly.

Clearly, my wife isn't in the mood for a conversation though. "Really?" She retorts. "What was the charity again?"

I consider giving her a dry remark back, but then decide against it. Sam's been down here longer than me and I imagine she's probably cold and fed up. Besides, yes - I abseiled for charity, but I did agree to learn it and do the charity abseil in order to impress Sam, so _technically_ it's not a point I can argue.

"How long till cave rescue get here?" Sam asks over the radio.

"It'll be another hour." The answer comes back.

"It'll be dark by then, Sam." I remark with a sigh. No matter how much she wants to pretend she's fine in the dark, I know she's not and I know she's already tired.

"We have to seriously ill casualties down here." She announces over the radio in a determined voice. "I don't think we _have_ an hour. We're going to move the rock ourselves and do what we can. Over."

"Dylan, hurry up with that!" Sam exclaims impatiently as I set up the air bag, I roll my eyes, but it seems to go unnoticed.

As I'm setting it up, David tells us that he was intending to ask Amanda out on a date, but he was afraid she'd say no, so he chickened out. "What a coward, eh?" He says.

"I knew, uh...I knew this bloke once..." Sam starts. Oh, here we go! "His marriage was dying in it's boots and...he just hid in a bottle. _That's_ cowardice. Not asking a girl out on a date? _Not even on the scale."_

 _'hid in a bottle'_ She doesn't know how right she is.

I glance at her nervously. In this moment, I'm a little scared of her - for there's anger and bitterness in her voice that I didn't know were there. It makes me realise that our marriage going wrong wasn't all one-sided – it wasn't all her fault. Up to now, I never considered that my secret alcoholism affected her too. Sam had the affair but maybe I led her to it – because she's right, our marriage was already dying _before_ she had the affair. I was drinking all the time and I can't have been very pleasant to live with when she was at home. I remember shouting at her a lot, but not much else. Maybe she thought I was drinking because of her – because her job took her away so much.

The truth is I didn't need an excuse. I was drinking because I couldn't stop.


	3. Chapter 3

**Dylan**

Her eyes are flashing dangerously when I glance at her – but I need to talk to her desperately – just to check whether I'm right. "Are you sure this is right?" I ask - under the pretence of needing her to check I've set up the air bag correctly. She looks annoyed, but comes over nonetheless.

"I agree." I announce to her. "I knew a woman who cheated on her husband, and she tried to convince him in all sincerity that it was an attempt to save their marriage. But she couldn't even tell him it was over – she had to force it on him. I think _that's_ cowardice!"

" _Is that what you think?_ " She fumes shining her torch at me. " That you're _innocent_ and I'm the one who crushed you?"

That's what I thought before – but I'm beginning to think otherwise now.

"I'm kind of...kind of pleased I'm single now." David chips in, distracting us from our argument.

"Ok David, we're worried about Amanda's breathing so we're going to have to try and move you." Sam explains.

"David this this air bag will lift the rock, ok?" I add.

"At least I _wanted_ to save our marriage." Sam mutters as she crawls over to David so she can monitor him. "Slowly!" She hisses as I start to move the air bag.

"Ok."

" _Stop! Stop!_ " She snaps sharply. "He's tachycardia. He's respiratory rate is up and his pulse is racing. He's bleeding out." She adds – talking too fast, and sounding almost hysterical.

"Ok. I'll lower it. I'll lower it." I say – using the tone I always adopt when I need her to calm down.

"Ok, it's settling back down." She tells me more calmly, once the rock is lowered again.

"What-what's happening?" David stammers.

" _Sssh, ok_." Sam whispers soothingly, before crawling back to me again. "I think, by the way, that the rock is settling on his upper abdomen and lower chest. My guess is it's a traumatic hepatic disruption. I think the rock has been stopping a catastrophic internal bleed...You _disagree_?"

Those were my thoughts exactly, but due to her current anger at me, the latter was more of a statement than a question.

"I wouldn't dare." I retort dryly. "Look worst-case scenario – we get the rock off and he bleeds to death in front of us. Best case-" I'm cut off then because David is panicking and Sam rushes off to calm him. When she can't calm him down, she looks over to me – her anger temporarily forgotten as she desperately searches my face seeking comfort and reassurance that she's doing a good job.

We manage to calm David down between us and he asks to speak to his Mum, so Sam finds his mum's number in his phone and hands it to him when it rings.

"Sam, we can't delay the chest drain any longer." I tell her, checking Amanda's breathing.

"Just give him a minute." She answers.

"So was he worth it, Sam?" I ask after the phone call has ended and we begin the chest drain with David's help.

"Do you really think it was even about him?" Sam snaps. "But _no._ " She sniffs. "He wasn't worth it...I wanted you to fight for our marriage – but you just _threw me away_ like I was _nothing_." She hisses tearfully.

That _hurts_. She's never been nothing. Does she _really_ think that? I guess she must do, because she never cries - and she's almost crying now.

Sam leans down to make the incision. She can't see what she's doing, but I can, so we have to put our personal feelings aside for now.

"Yeah, there. There." I tell her.

" _There?_ " She asks, seeking conformation.

"Make the incision." I instruct.

"Oh God. My arm's shaking." She stammers. "I can't reach with my other hand."

"Up a little." I reassure her gently, realising that she's panicking.

"Is that the right spot?" She makes the incision – and this is where we need David's help.

"David, take this." I say, handing him the implement that could save Amanda's life. He looks terrified. "I need you to insert that into the incision that Sam has just made, ok?"

"It's a chest drain." Sam explains. "It could save her life. I need you to insert it very firmly between my fingers, ok?" She encourages him. "Well done. Now pull the blue bit out at the end."

"I-I can't." He stammers.

" _Yes, you can._ " She tells him firmly. "Nearly there. That's it – well done."

"One last thing." I instruct him. "I need you to place this tube over the end of the drain that you've just inserted, ok? Can you do that for me?"

"Ok, David, ok. You can do it." Sam repeats her words of encouragement. "That's it. That's it. Ok, we are in."

"Ok, you might have just saved her life." I tell him as Sam administers the morphine he needs for the pain.

Jeff's voice comes over the radio announcing that Cave rescue have arrived – but it'll take them a while to set up, so all we can do now is wait.

We both lean back against the cave wall.

" _Why_ are we still married if we're pretending not to be?" Sam mutters. Silence falls.

"Are you...asking me for a divorce?" I answer eventually, not really wanting to know the answer. I'm pretty sure that's what she's trying to say.

"No." She responds. "I'm saying if _you_ want one, I won't stop you."

I stare at the floor. "You mean you won't fight for me any more." I mumble.

"I don't _deserve_ to fight for you." she answers. "But _you_ – you deserve to have what you want."

Before I can answer, there's more rumbling – and more rocks fall. We both yell and instinctively dive out of the way – or try too.

"David? Amanda? You ok?" I ask, checking on my patients. They both groan – alive and with no further injuries this time. Then I realise that I haven't heard my wife speak and I look around, as Jeff's panicked voice comes over the radio.

" _Sam? Dylan? What's happening down there? Over._ "

"Another rock-fall." I answer. "And – oh God, _Sam's under a rock._ " I add, rushing over to her. She's unconscious – and obviously a rock has hit her helmet quite hard as there is a dent in it. What's worrying me more though, is the large rock on her chest. Whilst the helmet took the main beating and largely protected her head, the _other_ rock is obstructing her upper chest – which contains her heart and lungs - amongst other things. It might have done, and could still be doing a lot of damage. Add to that, the unconsciousness...plus I don't like the sound of her breathing at the moment. I am _very_ worried. " _Sam?_ Come on, darling – you have to wake up." I beg her – momentarily forgetting all my medical skills. Then I squeeze her shoulders and give them a gentle shake.

She coughs and opens her eyes with a groan. "Urgh. Grumpy, go...back...ov...er there." She gasps. "Patients. _Now_."

"No." I tell her. "You're my patient to."

" _Go...back_." she insists as Jeff's voice comes back over the radio.

"Dylan, Update on Sam. How is she? Over."

I sigh, picking the radio up and crawl back to my other patients. " _Stubborn!"_ I answer. "She won't let me treat her. The rock's situated on her chest – and from the sound of her airways, I'm pretty sure her lung's collapsing. The new rock-fall missed Amanda and David. _Can I have an ETA on getting out of here?_ Over."

"They're arguing about whether it's safe after that rock-fall. Over." Jeff informs me.

"Well, tell them we _need_ to get out." I snap irritably. "I've got _three_ patients in need of urgent treatment in a _hospital._ Over."

Sam coughs. " _Two_...Two...pa...tients."

"Make that two – and a _very_ stubborn doctor. Over." I sigh down the radio, "Seriously though, Jeff." I add, turning away. "Sam _urgently_ needs an oxygen mask – and I don't _have_ another one down here, so _please_ hurry up. She can only fight for so long without one. Over."

"I'll do my best, mate. Over." Jeff agrees.

I turn back to Sam.

" _Stay...there._ " She insists again. She takes the deepest breath she can muster. "If they...die...and I...live, _I'll...ne...ver forgive...you_."

"Fine." I snap – but only because I'm worried about her. "Stay awake – and please _tell me_ if you feel worse."

"Doesn't...matter. For...get me." She mutters. "Save... _them_. Get...Amanda out...then...David."

I ignore her. " _Promise?_ " I tell her sternly.

" _Promise...grumpy._ " She agrees – probably to make me go back to Amanda and David. "You too – Amanda...then...David...Not me...first... _Promise_."

"Alright, _I promise_." I say reluctantly. Does she know what she's asking me? - to potentially let her die, if it gets to that point. _Not a chance_. This is a promise I'll break if I have too.

I keep glancing at Sam, listening to her trying to catch her breath. "I don't want a divorce, Sam." I tell her, wanting her to keep fighting for me – and for her. I need her to fight to live.

" _No?_ " She asks. " _I...love you...Dylan._ " She says – the words that _rarely_ come out of our mouths. Those three words are too emotional – so we don't go there. It worries me that she's saying them now. She's saying them because she believes it's her last chance to do so.

"I love you too." I answer. "But don't you _dare_ say your goodbyes, Sam. We're going to get out of here, and we're going to make a go of it, ok? We both need to try harder – and have no secrets." I add – making my mind up to tell her about my alcoholism, when we get through this.

"Ok." She mumbles.

After what seems an age, Jeff comes on the radio. "Dylan, they're coming down now. They're bringing another oxygen mask. Over."

 _Finally._

"Thank you, Jeff. Over." I answer. "Sam, just hold on, ok, - you'll have a mask to help you in a minute." I csall over to her.

As soon as they reach the bottom, I'm back by Sam's side with the oxygen mask. Her eyes are closed.

" _Sam?"_ I stammer in a panic. I'm too late – my wife has gone. " _No!_ Come on, darling you can't go now. I-"

" _Still...here...grumpy!_ " She mumbles, still with her eyes closed. " _Just...tired._ "

" _Oh, thank God!_ " I gasp. "I thought-" I put the mask over her face and place a kiss on her forehead.

" _Missed you._ " She mutters.

We start by getting Amanda out – which means we have to remove the rock off David. "Go up with...Amanda and David." Sam insists, the mask doing it's job – though she's still struggling.

So Amanda gets off to the hospital and I have to go with her in the ambulance, reluctantly leaving my wife – and David in Jeff's capable hands. As they are two of them, a second and third ambulance are en route – and knowing Sam, she'll make them take David first, no matter how bad she is – or long she has to wait for the next one.

It's tough carrying on like nothing else is happening, when all I _want_ to do is wait and go with my wife – but she stubbornly says that she'll never speak to me again if I don't 'go and save Amanda'.

As a consequence, I'm shaky when I get to the hospital – something that Zoe notices as Tess takes over from me on our way out the ambulance. Amanda arrested en route to the emergency department, and I've been doing chest compressions for the latter part of the journey.

"Sam got hit by a rock." I explain, after giving Amanda's resps. "She and David – the _other_ casualty are being brought in. I was threatened with being _sent to Coventry_ if I didn't bring Amanda in."

"Stubborn as ever then!" Zoe remarks.

Once in the ED, I take over from Tess again, doing chest compressions, when Jeff wheels Sam in. Linda is doing chest compressions on her. " _Wha_ -" She wasn't _ok_ , when I left with Amanda, but she was talking – albeit with difficulty.

"She arrested in the ambulance, mate." Jeff says. "We're all doing our best for her."

"Dylan, do you want me to take over?" Zoe asks, sensing my panic.

Seeing my wife lying there edging closer to death every second, has knocked me for six, but I have to do this for her.

" _No_." I answer, flustered. " _Come on, Sam_. I'm doing my best for Amanda – you have to do your best too!"

The machine beeps – indicating that Amanda is stabilising.

" _Come on, Sam_ – I've done _my_ bit. Now it's _your_ turn." I beg her.

 **Sam**

The back of my eyelids are strangely bright and I'm becoming aware that there is something warm and comforting in my hand. To add to that, I realise that the heavy weight has gone from my chest and though I'm met with soreness every time my chest lifts and relaxes, catching my breath is no longer such a chore.

I hear voices in the background – to familiar female voices, and the other...

" _Dylan_ " I mumble, recognising his unmistakeable sound.

" _Sam?_ "

I blink a few times to get used to the light – which I now realise is _daylight_ – the early hours pouring through the window behind me. I must have been out for a while then.

"Urgh." I groan, realising also, just how sore I am.

"You have to _take it easy_ , Sam." Zoe chides me me. "Your lung has been repaired and you have a couple of broken ribs, as well as a slight concussion – though luckily for you the helmet took _most_ of the beating for you."

"Not quite crackling health and safety then." I comment.

"No, not quite." Zoe agrees.

"Yes, Jeff and Dixie _told_ us what you said before you went in the cave!" Linda muses. "How are you feeling anyway?"

"Sore." I answer. "Bit tired - but glad to be alive I guess."

"Right, well we'll leave you to it." Zoe remarks, turning to leave.

Linda follows her. "Shout if you need anything."

"Urgh," I groan again. "What time is it?"

"5am – the day after we were in the cave." Dylan informs me. "You gave us quite a scare." He comments, looking up from our entwined hands.

I raise my eyebrows and he sighs.

"Ok. You gave _me_ quite a scare." He repeats, correcting himself.

"Sorry. I didn't _mean_ too." I tell him.

"No, I know you didn't" he agrees.

"David and Amanda?" I ask. He suddenly looks nervous.

"Amanda's going to be fine." He answers – then he hesitates.

" _David_?" I prod him.

"David...didn't make it." He mumbles looking away. I remember my words in the cave.

 _'If they die and I live, I'll never forgive you.'_

"Hey," I say softly, squeezing his hand. "It was always a strong possibility in that situation, but you saved _Amanda._ \- And me." I add.

He looks back at me slightly reassured. "What I said about making a go of it..." He trails off for a minute -and I worry that he's going to take it all back. I wait, _dreading_ the end of the sentence. "I meant it – but there's something I need to tell you first – and you might _want_ a divorce after."

I watch him nervously, but I can't decide whether he's serious – or whether he's being overly dramatic. " _You already had a wife when you married me?_ " I stammer before I can stop myself.

He stares at me in amazement. "No. wha-where did you get _that_ from?" He splutters.

I nearly burst into tears with relief. "Ok – _sorry_. It never _occurred_ to me until then." I mutter. "What is it?"

He takes a deep breath. "Before, I _did_ think that I was innocent." He admits. "But when you told David that I 'hid in a bottle' – that's when I realised that I was just as much to blame as you. _'Hid in a bottle'_." He repeats and gives a weak laugh. "I should have told you this before we got married, Sam – but I was afraid that you wouldn't want to marry me if you knew." He pauses.

"Knew what?" I ask, perplexed. "Dylan, I married you because I love you – nothing can change that."

He swallows. "I'm a recovering alcoholic." He admits, talking too fast as he tries to get it over with.. "It's been going on for years. I realise now, that I wasn't very pleasant to live with - and you must have been very lonely. " He whispers , his voice wavering. "I'm _sorry_ , Sam, _I'm so sorry_." He bows his head in shame.

"Come here." I sigh, and he allows me to pull him into a gentle hug. " _Sssh, it's ok_." I whisper as he cries a little. " _Your ok_. See Grumpy – you told me and I still love you, alright."

He sits back down and nods. "I-I know I used to shout at you a lot – but I never-" He hesitates. "I never – you know, _hurt_ you, Sam, did I? - I mean, when I was drinking a lot." He whispers, afraid that he did something he can't remember.

" _No, Dylan._ _You've never hurt me._ " I reassure him. He looks much happier. I pause. "While we're sharing secrets," I start. "There's something you should know too – and it's...it's _worse._ " I stammer – suddenly wishing that I'd kept my mouth shut.

Alcoholism one thing, but surely he won't want to be married to a murderer?

" _I_ think it's worse anyway. And-and they've called _Iain_ to give evidence at my GMC hearing so I think it's going to come out." I mutter. He looks at me and swallows.

"When I was in Afghanistan..." I begin. "There was...this man – this _civilian_. I-I _thought_ he had a trigger for a bomb in his hand. I-I shot him – _dead._ " A sob escapes my lips and Dylan squeezes my hand to tell me that he's not going anywhere, so I continue. "The thing I thought was a trigger, was an _asthma inhaler_. He was reaching for it to tell me that he couldn't breath – and I- _I killed him_. He had a family and - I _killed_ an innocent man." I repeat – sure that if I say it _enough_ times, Dylan will walk out without a backward glance. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you." I mutter. "But I didn't think you'd _want_ to be married to a murderer."

There's a short silence as my words sink in and I prepare myself for him making an excuse to leave – or even for him leaving without a word.

"You didn't _know_ , Sam." Dylan says simply. "In that _awful_ situation, you had to make a split-second decision. I can't even _imagine_ what it's like over there. But now I _know._ " He adds. " – and now _you_ know too. No more secrets, ok? We can make this work."

He stands up, and leaning over my hospital bed, enfolds me in another hug.

" _My life is worth nothing without you,_ _grumpy_ _._ " I whisper.


End file.
